King of Greed (Kings of Sin #3) by Ana Huang

I pressed my forehead against hers, my chest aching with a fierce mix of lust and longing. Our breaths mingled, and despite the erection pressing painfully against my zipper, my arousal took a back seat to the unbearable intimacy of the moment. Still, despite my best efforts, I couldn’t prevent post-sex clarity from creeping between us.

I wanted Alessandra back in our bed, our house, our life. I’d been missing a vital piece of myself since she walked out, and it was incredible to think I’d somehow taken her for granted when I needed her more than I needed to breathe.

“Come home.” My raw plea whispered over her mouth.

Alessandra closed her eyes, her expression torn. She might’ve relented. I felt the softening of her shoulders, detected a telltale change in the rhythm of her breaths, but before she could respond, a shrill ring ripped through the air.

Fuck. I pulled back and ended the incoming call. It was from that fucking unknown number again, but when I glanced up less than five seconds later, I could tell I’d already lost her.

Panic dug vicious claws into my gut. “Ále— ”

“I can’t.” Her anguished response landed with sickening finality.

I can’t.

I spent my life dealing with lengthy contracts and complex calculations, but it was funny how two simple words could devastate me with the brutal efficacy of a nuclear bomb.

The next beat stretched painfully between us before she pushed me away and slid off the counter. I didn’t say anything when she fixed her clothes, and I didn’t stop her when she left without meeting my eyes.

I can’t. What was there to say after that?

It was only when the door clicked shut behind her that my numbness shattered.

“Dammit!” I slammed my fist against the counter. Pain exploded, both from the impact of flesh against marble and from her departure.

I’d pushed her too far, too fast, and now I risked her throwing her guard up even more. All for a kiss and several stolen minutes alone.

Was it worth it? a voice whispered.

Yes. The answer came without thought.

She was always worth it.

I’d take any moment with her, no matter how quick or fleeting, because I didn’t know how many we had left.

I closed my eyes, my head pounding with each heartbeat. I hadn’t felt this uncertain since I was a teenager on the fringes of a shithole town, and I hated it. I’d poured a lot of time and money into stamping out any potential loss of control, but it took only one response from Alessandra to unravel my efforts.

I waited until the sharpest spikes of my migraine passed before I straightened. By the time I exited the bathroom, I’d ruthlessly forced my outward composure back into place, but I was so lost in my thoughts, I didn’t notice the shadow waiting for me until it peeled off the wall and stepped into the light.

I almost stepped around him before his face came into focus.

A fist of shock punched through my turmoil over Alessandra. No. It can’t be.

Knife-blade cheekbones slashed through the dark, and jet-black hair matched the color of his T-shirt, pants, and boots. He’d changed plenty over the years—smooth skin had given way to dark stubble; teenage lankiness had morphed into solid muscle.

But those eyes were the same. The distinctive green orbs glittered, cold and amused, beneath the hallway’s dim lighting.

The noise and music from the bar became indiscernible as blood thundered in my ears.

Any hope I’d had of him being an uncanny doppelgänger vanished when a mocking smile stretched across his face.

“Hello, brother.”





CHAPTER 12



Alessandra




I WOULD NEVER DRINK GIN AND TONICS OR APPLE martinis again. They were fine and well when it was nighttime and I was high off the buzz, but in the bright light of morning, my recent exploits with Dominic brought a deep flush to my skin.

I couldn’t believe I’d let him kiss me. I couldn’t believe I’d kissed him back and followed him into a bar bathroom, of all places, where I’d orgasmed so hard my toes curled just thinking about it.

I groaned, banging my forehead lightly against the cabinet while I waited for the coffee to brew. Thank God Sloane was still in Europe, or she’d instantly know something was up. That woman had a bloodhound’s nose for sniffing out secrets.

What would tonight look like if things were different?

A kiss. Just one.

Shh. Patience.

My skin heated at the memory of Dominic’s mouth and hands. Kissing, caressing, exploring. Bringing me expertly over the edge as only he could do. For all our problems over the years, physical attraction had never been one of them. Even at our lowest point, the sex had always been good.

“At least you didn’t go home with him,” I muttered.

I’d almost caved. Alcohol and sex had already done a number on my judgment, and his uncharacteristic vulnerability would’ve been the final straw.

Thank God for that call. Obviously, the universe had been looking out for me because I refused to be someone who ran back to her partner after a few pretty words and a nice—okay, a spectacular— orgasm.

Last night had been a fluke. It was never going to happen again, especially not after the divorce went through—and it would go through.

The coffee finished brewing. I poured myself a cup and ignored the singsong voice in my head that said I could blame the alcohol all I wanted, but there was a part of me that had wanted to go home with him.